


Roasting Chestnuts

by Arithanas



Category: Les Trois Mousquetaires | The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Fireplaces, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-14
Updated: 2011-11-14
Packaged: 2018-04-08 11:30:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4303191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithanas/pseuds/Arithanas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1624, December in Paris. There are few things more romantic than an intimate session by the fireplace, if you can avoid friends, servants and burns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roasting Chestnuts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElDiablito_SF](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElDiablito_SF/gifts).



"You both are late," Porthos grumbled and wrapped himself in the cloak as they headed to the Captain’s office. The snow continued to fall steadily.

Aramis looked at Athos, not knowing what to answer, but it seemed that Athos had everything well calculated. Adjusting his cloak over his clean, freshly put, doublet. His just brushed hair shone insolent in the torches lights.

“We got distracted roasting nuts," said Athos, with his imperturbable coolness.

Aramis could barely contain a gesture of irritation.

***

It had all started a couple of hours earlier. They had a little time to kill before having to report to Treville. Porthos had found an entertainment and they had no intention of disrupting his fun, if the two could spend time on more pleasant issues. Both had briskly gone to Rue Férou and smiled at seeing Athos’ landlady with her prayer book and rosary in hand: she was going to Mass. They greeted her with a nod, behaving like perfect gentlemen until the entryway closed behind them and they started to climb the stairs devouring each other with kisses. Athos' hand opened the door to the small apartment and suddenly they came in the small room on the second floor.

It was then when the great _tué-l’amour_ occurred.

Grimaud was in the room, shirtless, engaged filling in a copper bathtub with water that had been heated in the fireplace and watched them impassively, but Aramis swore he could read surprise, amusement and spite in those eyes of faithful mastiff.

"Saturday!" Athos said, releasing his friend.

Unruffled, Grimaud nodded. Aramis felt like throwing the intruder out of the room without explanation, perhaps with a kick in the butt as a farewell, it was inconsequential if it was Saturday or not. They did not have too much time and they had no obligation provide explanations to a servant. Athos made a sign to his valet, who left the wooden bucket next to the tub and, meek as usual, he approached his master almost expecting to be scolded for having fulfilled his orders: He had only prepared the bath and warmed up some water, like every Saturday.

"M. Aramis will bathe here, go to his home and bring clean clothes.”

Grimaud nodded and headed for the door, grabbing his shirt and jerkin on the way.

"Oh, and Grimaud, do a complete turnaround the Luxembourg before coming back," he ordered starting to loosen the studs.

A small smile appeared on the servant’s lips before the door closed behind him. Aramis, who did not trust this fool, opened the door a crack to see that he to go away. His distrust was no reason for being, the servant came running down the stairs, like a schoolboy released from classes, while he dressed to protect himself for cold weather. Once over the threshold, the servant went scurrying in the opposite direction of Rue de Vaugirard.

"I think the jerk who lives with you has decided to disobey," he muttered, closing the door firmly.

"I expected it, he has a _petit ami_ , of which he believes I know nothing about, and spend with him all his free time, but who cares, Aramis? He’s gone and that’s what you wanted." Athos interrupted his speech to take off his shirt over his head. "And don’t worry; he will go all the way around Luxembourg before returning here."

"You should get rid of him ..." Aramis murmured and watched as Athos undid the rest of his clothes. "Seriously, are you going to take that bath?"

"Every Saturday, either I need it or not, I take a bath," said Athos showing himself in his glorious nakedness. "Besides, I do not want look like a liar to the service."

"To hell with Grimaud!"

“You are taking it out on him. Come on; take off your clothes and to the water!”

"Cursed be the desire I have to take a bath now!"

Athos was used to such scenes, he just shook his head and, naked, came to kiss him, his bold hands began to unleash the laces while trying to recover Aramis’ interest, if not in the bath, at least in stripping. Despite his anger, Aramis could be convinced to shed his clothes, his body stuck to Athos’, with the excuse to conserve heat, rejoicing at the touch of such firm flesh, relaxing at the touch of those expert hands. Slowly, Athos managed to attract him into the bath and, at the right time, picked him up in his arms and went to the bath.

"What are you doing, unmitigated idiot?" Aramis protested, trying to get down from those muscular arms.

"Taking a bath, I told you," Athos replied, sitting in the tub and placing Aramis between his legs.

"We get pneumonia!"

"Bah! The water is warm and fire is burning ..."

Aramis said nothing, but his body indicated he had no interest in participating in the enterprise. Without concern, Athos reached out and took the rag and soap and began to make foam to rub that insolent back displayed before his eyes and that insisted on punish him with his contempt.

"From the back, you look really good," he said while scrubbing his friend’s shoulders, "I think it is your second best side."

"If you have not noticed, I have only two sides," said Aramis, refusing to mollify his behavior.

"But this is one I don’t see very often" Athos insisted throwing water on Aramis’ back to rinse the soap. "I wonder if these shoulders are product of the sword or the Hail Maries..."

Aramis glared at him over his shoulder, turning his hips, ready to give his friend a sermon, and Athos made good use of balance shift to make him slip on the bottom of the tub and make him fall into his arms. Aramis splashed in the water, wetting both of them, Athos smiled at his attempts to sit up and not to be embraced, knowing that sooner or later he would cease to resist. For now, all this activity would thoroughly clean them.

"Like master, like valet..." Aramis muttered, laying his hands on the edges of the tub.

“Am I a jerk?”

"You know you are." He nodded, settling himself against Athos’ chest.

"Today you are in an insufferable temper, my friend," the other said returning to the soap excuse to stroke Aramis completely.

"It's because I'm all fussed up, _parbleu!_ " He admitted, as he felt Athos’ hands caressing his ass. "Today, I had no intention of dealing with that harrowing face or of taking a bath."

"That can be arranged, Aramis," he said, stroking the back of the thigh, wondering when was the last time he consciously had touched Aramis on that part. "Summon your patience and offer it to the Lord"

"Shut your heretic and impious mouth!"

Aramis did not give him much choice, throwing himself over Athos to kiss that mouth. Athos accomplished the task but his hands began to wander in the Aramis’ belly before fastening the shaft with his fingers, stroking the smoothness of a feather, making sure the words from the mouth that kissed were true to the last letter; and soon he could feel in the palm of his hand, the irrefutable proof of that desire.

There was no hurry, no matter how impatient Aramis was. They had plenty of time. For now, the best they could do was enjoying the warm embrace of water, feed their arousal and exhaust their caresses before switching to more athletics activities. Aramis was more interested in playing with Athos’ nipples that in paying attention to the rigid horn resting against the belt of Apollo. Athos hugged him and nibbled that lobe was beginning to look a little pale, and he would ensure it became translucent pink.

When the water began to get cold, it seemed to be the best time to have an intimate encounter in front of the fireplace. Athos gave his towel to his friend while he went to the cupboard, looking for some olive oil. In his haste, he left the cupboard rather disorganized, but, with a shrug, he thought Grimaud needed some entertainment. Aramis did not allow him to think about it, as he was at hand’s reach he pulled him from a not entirely conventional part, but not a less enjoyable one. They shared some of the oil and their fingers were busy touching each other intimately, Aramis led Athos' hand to his haunches, the whim he had in mind was evident.

"Work it good, Athos,” he ordered, his body was dry and cold in comparison to Athos’ wet flesh. "I really want you deep today."

Athos was not going to waste words to such an invitation. With undeniable passion, the musketeer’s hands recognized the gentle hills of his partner before moving fingers between both buttocks. The oil facilitated the task and was soon petting the puckered ring. The tips of his fingers stroked around the edge, before launching the assault. Athos was still surprised by its narrowness, after so many years in the seminary. He still could not believe that this beautiful boy had not been besieged by half cloister, or maybe it was just that he could not believe his luck of being the chosen one.

Aramis moaned into Athos’ ear as those long fingers explored the road that led to pleasure. He could not help but feel a little embarrassed by his lewd behavior, but that did not prevent that he offers himself to be well explored, with one leg hooked behind the legs of Athos; he tilted his hindquarters, paving the way to be better penetrated. Athos smiled and supported his friend’s weight while one taunting finger made his way inside that welcoming cavity. Aramis ground his hips against the intruder, his body adjusted, eagerly, and making way for another one, that Athos gladly lend it to him, sliding inside him to feel the heat.

"You will be better ride, if you really want depth rather than vigor," Athos suggested once his fingers could caress him in without any resistance.

"It is a rather... showing position, Athos.”

"I'll be admiring your charming shoulder blades."

Athos left him and lay on the floor with his knees slightly bent towards the fireplace, from that position he made the sign that he was available. Aramis, before answering the call, took a little more oil and rubbed it on the stiff cock that was offered for his pleasure. Only then, and not too sure about it, placed his legs on both side of Athos and squatted to impale himself voluntarily. Athos led him, making sure the entrance was adequate, enjoying the spectacle of his rigid manhood slowly penetrating Aramis’ beautiful rear

"I know that groan," Aramis protested, stopping half way, "You're not seeing my shoulder blades!"

"It's not my fault that you're all wonderful to see"

Aramis could continue arguing, if not because he was beginning to feel replete and too excited to speak, Athos was really deep inside him; Athos' hands on his waist helped him hold his position until he felt ready to continue. It took several tries, but, for the first time, he was fully packed.

“Oh, God...”

“Don’t mention Him, now!” Athos growled, fighting the urge to pierce that tender flesh.

They stood still for some moments by the fireside, heat stroked their crotch a little harder than they expected, but such consideration came to their minds when they were already busy moving in unison, seeking their common pleasure.

_***_

"Nuts?" Porthos' voice was filled with disbelief.

Aramis didn´t even attempt to support Athos, he had decided to get into this mess by his own hand; he would have to find a way out alone. His private parts still stung slightly by the heat of the fireplace to worry about him and his harebrained ideas.

"Chestnuts, to be more precise," said Athos, taking off his hat before entering M. de Treville’s anteroom. "Want to try some when we get out from here?"

"Deal!" Porthos nodded and entered first.

"Chestnuts?" Aramis demanded an explanation, making the most of Porthos’ arrival. He always managed to halt any meeting.

“I saw a large bag in the cupboard. They are Grimaud’s" Athos explained in a hurry. "Tell me now that my harrowing valet is completely useless.”


End file.
